


pink is for remembrance

by WonderBoy



Series: Growing Up Ain't What It Seems [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Gen, Memories, Minor Character Death, Reminiscing, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 07:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13946784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderBoy/pseuds/WonderBoy
Summary: "On Altea, we wear this color to honor our fallen warriors."But when colors aren't enough, there are pictures. And there are those who are left behind.





	pink is for remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Haha I definitely should have been doing homework instead of finishing this but here we are
> 
> And is it obvious yet that Lance is my favorite character? Because it should be. Did he need to be in this? Absolutely not. Is he anyways? Absolutely.
> 
> I named Coran's son "Raible," after Coran's counterpart in the Beast King GoLion series but Raible does have (or I supposed had) a son named Roland in the series ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The paladins tended to avoid wandering around the castle ship, despite making it their home for as long as they had. There was some residual fear left over from the time the ship went haywire and tried to kill most of them in some way or another. But mostly, there was something eerie about moving through the empty halls. Especially at night, or the closest thing to night they experienced out in space, the hallways felt as if they were filled with another presence that seemed to fade in and out of their dimension. Like ghosts.

But the longer they were out in space, the longer the war went on, the harder it became to sleep through the night.

Lance had returned from a mission with Pidge strung out and looking for _something_ that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. So, he found himself spending the following days catching short naps whenever the exhaustion lulled him to sleep and the nights mapping out parts unventured in the castle.

Most of the rooms he came across were empty dorms like the ones they occupied or rooms stuffed with furniture and knickknacks covered in yellowed cloths and thick dust. So, the large, rounded room with a dark, ornate pink rug down the center of the room was a surprise to stumble upon. Soft lights were already lit when Lance stepped through the doors, revealing not only how well cared for the room was, but also Coran’s form standing off to the side, staring up at the wall.

Pictures covered almost every inch of the walls. Unlike the projections or holograms that made up most of the images the Alteans used or taught the paladins to use, the framed pictures of the rounded room resembled Earth’s photographs and paintings. The pictures near Lance were of Alteans he had never seen before, dressed in a variety of fashions that looked…well alien. But as he moved closer to Coran, he began to recognize the figures in the pictures as Alfor and the other Voltron Paladins and the people closest to them. There was even a picture of the Voltron Lions, just finished, if not still in the final stages of production.

One of the last pictures hung depicted a younger Coran, flanked on either side by a child. If they were humans, Lance would have guessed both of the kids to be around ten or eleven, but he was less confident about guessing an Altean’s age. To Coran’s left was obviously little Allura. But on Coran’s other side was a boy Lance had never seen before. With bright orange hair.

“Hello, Number Three,” Coran said softly, inclining his head towards Lance.

Lance startled, not aware that Coran had noticed his presence. He smiled awkwardly. “Hi. Sorry to sneak up on you,”

Coran sighed softly. “I imagined you would come across this room sooner or later.”

“Ah, so you knew? About the…exploring?” Lance asked, but Coran didn’t give much of an answer. Lance followed his gaze back to the picture. “That’s a good picture of you guys.”

A ghost of a smile flittered across his expression. “Yes, we were quite a dashing trio, weren’t we? It was for the princess’s birthday. She was just turning ten.”

“What…what about the little boy?”

Coran closed his eyes, as if steeling himself before answering, and Lance immediately regretted asking the question. He was about to take it back, insist Coran did not have to answer, when Coran opened his eyes again.

“Raible was still nine. He was a few phoebs younger than Allura. They used to argue about that age difference constantly.”

Unbidden, Lance remembered the makeshift birthday party they threw for Allura not long ago. “So,”

Coran nodded. “Today would be his birthday. Ten thousand and twenty-one deca-phoebs. If he was still alive, of course.”

Lance wasn’t sure what he could do to ease the obvious pain the normally dramatic advisor was experiencing. Reaching out, he placed a hand on Coran’s shoulder, wincing when he jumped under the touch. Lance started to pull away, but Coran lifted a hand to squeeze his own.

“Thank you, Number Three.”

“Would…Could you tell me about him?” Lance asked quietly.

Coran finally turned away from the picture to face Lance, and it was obvious from the wetness of his eyes and the red of his face that he had been crying. Lance wasn’t sure how long, but the thought hurt something inside him anyways.

“What would you like to know?”

Lance blinked back his own tears, ignoring how they stung his eyes. “His name was Raible?”

“Yes, for his grandfather, for my…for my father.” Coran laughed softly. “He wasn’t happy about that when he was young either. He was born too late, his name too old-fashioned.”

“What was he like?”

Coran was quiet for a moment. “He was…a little like you, actually.”

Lance pushed past the tightness in his throat to wink at Coran. “So, devastatingly handsome and talented?”

Coran’s expression softened, his eyes crinkled with a smile. “Of course. But he had more of a temper. I used to blame his mother for that one…but I admit I’m not totally innocent of it either. We use to fight often. About his hair and his clothes. About what was an appropriate way to address the princess, even if she was his friend. He joined the fight against Zarkon back then, and we fought about that too.”

Lance was sure he didn’t imagine the waiver in Coran’s voice when Zarkon came up. “…You didn’t want him to fight?”

Coran shook his head. “He wanted to serve his king, his kingdom, his planet, that I understood. But at the time, I truly believed in King Alfor and the rest of the paladins of Voltron’s abilities. I believed they would defeat Zarkon and everything would be fine,” He took a shaky breath. “And he said to me, ‘Father, if everything will be fine, what is there for you to worry about?’ How could I argue with that?”

Lance didn’t have the words to make it better, but he pulled Coran into a hug, hoping, if only for a moment, he could make him feel less alone. Coran’s arms settled around him and tears wet his shoulder.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there before the door opened again. Allura’s quiet “oh” broke the silence when she saw them.

Coran broke the hug first, wiping his face as he turned to face her. “Good evening, Princess.”

Lance wiped his own face as Allura stared at Coran. A blanket was draped around her shoulders and her hair was pulled back in a half-hearted ponytail. If she had been sleeping before she joined them, it didn’t look as if it had been a restful night.

“Oh Coran,” she sighed before crossing the room in wide strides. She threw her arms around him, cocooning them both in her blanket as she sagged against him.

Coran pressed a kiss to the side of her head as he held her. “I know…Allura. I know.”

“I’m sorry, sorry to be such a mess,” she whispered.

Coran shook his head, holding her even closer. “He deserves more than just me to mourn and remember him. I am happy to be able to share his memory with you.”

Lance slipped out the door again as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb their moment. He knew the two were constantly dealing with a kind of loss that none of the other paladins could understand and now especially they deserved a moment to mourn.

The last thing he saw before the door closed again was Coran’s face and his melancholy smile as he mouthed something to him.

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feel free to come yell at me, request new things (maybe some happy things haha), or just stalk the progress of fics on tumblr @ thathopelessromantic.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks for reading!! <3


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